Bad News
by Dark Man's Girl
Summary: Draco is bad news. Harry is one persistent b****. H/D slash with a sort of actual plot *gasp*.
1. Chapter 1

Discalimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

**Bad News**

_Chapter One: That Persistent Bitch_

Blue eyes peered at the boy through the bleachers. The way he maneuvered a broom was professional—deliberate. Draco liked that as Harry Potter was not otherwise a very deliberate person. No Gryffindor was. Deliberate was a word to describe him at this moment. He allowed himself five second glances before turning his attention back to his dreadful thugs. "Hold steady boys."

The large boy stayed still, clamping the trunk of small golden balls shut. To the other side of the trunk was Goyle, ready to unlatch the trunk at any moment. In a soft, low register the later asked, "Why are we doing this again?"

Draco rolled his eyes, broken away from his five second glance. "Father threatened me within an inch of my life. If Slytherin loses the house cup again they're firing the pool boy and making me do their dirty work. Never mind I'm not even on the bloody team anymore. " His eyes went back—Potter just dove nose first for the golden snitch who wandered towards the Ravenclaw stands they stood under. "Now!"

The bigger boys did not wait for a moment before letting dozens of golden snitches loose onto the field.

Harry's fingertips were merely centimeters from the snitch when suddenly there was another buzzing in his ear—two more were on the other side of the pitch—another flew just under him. He tried hard not to lose track of the snitch he had originally been following, and almost caught the bugger had it not decided to make a swift turn right into a whole swarm of others. He sat up on his broom, utterly frazzled. He looked over to Madame Hooch, whose scowl looked ready to kill. And just in that moment the Slytherin seeker caught one of the snitches, smiling toothily.

The woman's whistle blew loud across the field, and all playing stopped (aside from dodging the occasional bludger.) "All players to the field— Severus, Minerva!"

From the stands Draco saw the deliberation, keeping his eyes trained on the raven haired object of his desire.

"In truth, Robbin, there is a Finnish form of Quidditch in which they play with ten snitches in order to shorten their games." Snape's drawl was unusually boyish, "Furthermore the rules imply that the seeker must catch a snitch, and that, Miss Fulton did, in fact catch one."

"Yes, however, there was a match in 1867—it was the German Gnomes versus the French Pixies, I believe—in which the seeker released an extra snitch from his pocket, and caught it instantly. It didn't take much deliberation to find the seeker terribly guilty of cheating--"Madame Hooch was cut short by Snape.

"Yes, however, it was obviously not Miss Fulton who released the snitches, as no person could keep that many snitches in their pocket." Snape's mouth smiled into a curl, "Furthermore, Robbin, It seems the snitches were released near where Potter was, which I find highly suspicious. Would it be unfair of me to request a full scale investigation before deliberation on the outcome of the match is decided?" He looked to McGonagall innocently. "Minnie?"

Flaring her nostrils in distaste, she replied, "We have nothing to hide, Severus. In the event that Gryffindor is found innocent—and it will—I demand a rematch."

"Of course, Minnie." Snape smiled tightly.

Robbin Hooch, on the other hand was not so sure, "A full scale investigation will be held on both houses, of course." She crossed her arms and looked to the disgruntled players. "To the locker rooms. The outcome of the game will be revealed at a later date. Off with you, now."

A collective moan rattled through the stands and the group of athletes on the field.

As Harry Potter turned, Malfoy made haste to blend in with the rest of the Slytherins who were already making their ways down from the stands.

***

Draco's eyes drifted from Professor Flitwick's abysmal lecture on charm ethics to Harry Potter, who seemed just as bored. Had he not brought a Blab-A-Bottle to class, he would have been taking notes just as urgently as the mudblood. However, the bottle not only held a high quality green ink, but also the lectures of this and many other classes within its charmed depths, therefore he could afford to watch the Potter boy.

Snape had given the whole house a lecture the previous evening, although Draco knows it was aimed at him. The main point of the message was to cover himself. Don't let Hooch catch him. Draco was not that stupid as to be caught, though. He was, of course, a Slytherin to the very slimy bones.

His eyes flicked to his cohort—the Mudblood. The bites Draco had charmed on her had been spreading as the class began. Feigned snitch bites. Only the cheap snitches ever bit. This was a small piece of wizarding trivia that only experienced quidditch players and fans would know. It would only be typical of her to save a knut to help her friends.

He knew he was stroking his father's competitive streak, but Draco couldn't help it. He was just so fond of irritating the trio—especially Harry.

***

An hour later Draco had left class briefly to take a "bathroom break" or in other words an "if-I-spend-one-more-moment-in-the-presence-of-Hufflepuffs-I-will-kill-myself" break. He went straight to the loo's sink, letting a bit of water against his pristinely pampered skin refresh him. He sighed happily.

"Oi, Malfoy!" Potter's voice echoed off the walls of the vast room.

Draco sighed again—this time in anguish, "Potter, I've just spent a half an hour with Hufflepuffs. May we have this conversation some other time, please?"

"I know you're the one who botched the match this weekend." His voice boomed irritatingly.

"Oh pisser, you've caught me. Whatever shall I do?" Draco's voice oozed with sarcasm. "You have nothing on me, Potter, because there is nothing to be had."

"I saw you—and your cronies." He hissed.

"Please, as if that is any sort of proof, Potter. Crabbe, Goyle and I are always around one another." He smiled into the distance, "They make me feel prettier."

"But I saw you signal to them just before—wait, what?" His eyebrows furrowed—cutely, in Draco's opinion.

"What you don't think I'm prettier than they are?" He pouted childishly.

"Yes—I mean no! Malfoy! Ugh—you're not a girl!" He fidgeted and became flustered, trying to let the words he wish he would say fly out of his mouth.

"Good eye, Potter." He raised his nearly invisible eyebrow.

"What business have you got wanting to be pretty?" He spat out.

"You really are dull, Potter. I—" Draco struck a very feminine pose, throwing his head back, pushing his hips forward, "am a fairy."

Potter tilted his head in confusion, "Aren't fairies—"

"Gay, queer, homosexual—a dirty ass-pirate… well as my dearest Blaise chose to put it." Draco straightened the rings on his fingers, "Do you comprehend?"

"Oh…" Harry's eyes glazed over for a moment, creating an awkward silence in the room. Suddenly, though, he narrowed his eyes and shot, "Wait, do you have a crush on me?"

Draco rolled his eyes and walked away.

***

Day and night—night and day. Notes from Potter in class, at breakfast, in his dormitory. Ordinarily this would not have bothered him. Perhaps if they didn't all read, "Do you have a crush on me?" he would have appreciated them more. Draco refused to answer.

Of course Draco had a crush on him. Of course he did. But he would never tell Potter that. Potter was a good boy. Potter was a Gryffindor. As much as Draco fancied the idea of corrupting the boy, he couldn't.

However, Harry was a persistent little bitch (as Draco liked to put it.) And after two weeks of constant harping, and nagging, and irritation the Slytherin boy snapped.

It was just as the Slytherins and Gryffindors were being released from their Potions class. Most of them were on their way to eat—the Weasley boy in very front.

"Hermione, we already know you did it. It was a nice gesture, but honestly, give it up! We need to get on with our Quidditch season." Weasley said to the mudblood.

Potter, was not listening to this. He lagged behind to catch Draco—yet again. "Hey Malfoy, do you have a crush on me?"

Draco got very close to the boy—close enough to breathe in his masculine scent and see that he had obviously had the porridge this morning—per the small, almost unnoticeable stain on his robe. "Potter," He turned very sharply in front of the boy, and put a finger gently on Potter's lips. "yes." He bit lip and looked into emerald eyes that had just recently grown wide. "I have a crush on you, Potter." He let his finger fall, and pick up Harry's jaw. "But don't worry. I would never let us happen." He leaned forward, just barely feathering his lips against Harry's. "I'm bad news."

Releasing himself from the Potter boy, Draco turned around and walked towards the Great Hall for some lunch.

A/N: Read and Review Please. Next chapter will be up soon!!


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

A/N: It's my birthday this week and no one is writing me any pretty gift fics :*(. So I'll write someone else a gift fic instead. Who wants one? I do Harry Potter, Naruto, Fruits Basket and Saiyuki. I can experiment with other fandoms I know. Throw me some ideas in your reviews and I'll pick the one i like best. ^-^

Chapter Two: Slytherin Wins?

"Greg, dear, I haven't the slightest clue how to handle this conundrum." Malfoy looked up at him through his platinum blond eyelashes. "I just can't have Potter making me feel awkward all the time. He's constantly staring at me, and being irritating on the whole." He wiggled higher into the larger boy's lap, resting his head on Goyle's right thigh. "I know you and Vin would do anything for me... but I'm not sure what to have either of you do."

Laughing dumbly, Goyle stroked his hair, "That's a first. I don't know either, Draco. I'm just the brawn of this operation."

"True...." Draco closed his eyes and enjoyed the feel of Goyle's large hand in his hair.

Goyle wasn't gay. He just didn't know that yet. So, being the less unseenly of the two, Draco used him as his cuddle buddy of sorts. In this position, he always seemed to find clarity... this case was just taking him a bit longer than usual. It's not every day you have a crush on some one you don't want to be with...

***

"Malfoy likes me." Harry repeated, his head bobbing out of the barracks he'd made out of his arms.

"I know, Harry, you've told me." Hermione flipped angrily through a book. "And no, Ronald, I will not confess because I did not do it! Where would I even find that many snitches?!"

"The quidditch store in Diagon Alley. They have thousands of snitches stocked all the time for five knuts a piece-- the cheapest in town." Ron spat back. "Of course, I didn't need to tell you that." He crossed his arms and scowled.

"If you know that much about the crime, Ron, I'd suspect you'd done it if it weren't for the fact that you were on the pitch when it happened." She never lifted her head, searching and searching.

Ron's face lit up like a Christmas tree. "B-but I was there, so I couldn't have."

Harry's eyes narrowed, and his head popped out of the barracks. "What are you lying about, Ron?"

"Nothing. I was there, so I couldn't have done it." He bit his lip and his eyes flicked over to Hermione.

The girl's eyebrows almost disappeared into her hair, "Ronald Weasley, you did do it! And you charmed these bloody bites all over me, didn't you?!"

"NO!" Ron covered his mouth, and laid face down on his bed, face buried in the pillow. He mumbled something unintelligible and pulled the covers over.

Harry and Hermione looked at eachother in suspicion. Harry nodded to Hermione, cuing her to go over.

She sat beside him and pulled the covers back. In her sweetest, most innocent voice asked, "Ronald... have you got something to tell us?" She let a hand stroke his hair. "You can tell us-- you can tell me."

Harry stared at the pair with a vacant look_. Malfoy likes me, Malfoy likes me, Malfoy likes me_...

Ron turned his head and looked up at Hermione with doey brown eyes. "I didn't play that game..."

Hermione raised her eyebrow, but continued in a soft tone, "I saw you playing, though, Ron..."

"I gave Charlie some Polyjuice Potion because I was nervous and didn't want to make Gryffindor lose. The Slytherin chasers are killer." He closed his eyes ready to be yelled at.

***

"Excuse me students, we have an announcement to make about last weekend's Quidditch match." Madame Hooch's voice rang through the silent Great Hall. "Due to a forfeiture besides the question of the appearance of the excess snitches, the match goes to Slytherin. As not to embarrass the Gryfindor team, the details of the nature of the forfeiture will be disclosed only to the Gryffindor team. That is all."

Draco grinned. "Mission accomplished boys." He dug into his plate of eggs happily_. Whatever forfeiture Gryffindor forwent will be enough to distract Potter from anything having to do with me. Excellent. What a desirable conclusion._

The extra bounce in his step was brought to a halt when there Potter was-- in front of him with flowers and a pathetic look on his face. "Um.. Malfoy?"

"I'm sorry, was the conclusion of last week's match not enough of a let down today?" Draco felt Crabbe and Goyle looming over him. He felt very very safe.

"Well... I was just wondering... um... could we talk? Tonight, perhaps... in the astronomy tower?" He caught Draco's eye, "Alone?"

Draco was floored. "I'll let you know." He responded smoothly, "Are those for me?" He smiled slyly.

"Yeah... They're the color of your eyes." Harry tried hopefully, to be poetic.

"Charming. Vincent, would you please?" Allowing his friend a moment to take the flowers, he strode off to the dungeons in one hell of a conundrum.

A/N: Read and review please. Should I up the rating for more fun at the end or keep it T-rated?


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